What You Say
by dettiot
Summary: The last time they'd been in Cardiff, the Doctor had worn a different face and both Mickey and Jack had been with them. Now, Mickey and Jack were gone, and as for the Doctor . . . Rose doesn't want to go to Cardiff.  TenRose, postAge of Steel.


**What You Say**

By Melissa

Written for the Time and Chips Anywhere but Cardiff ficathon.

**Prompt**: Acadia, 1600

**Pairing**: Rose/Ten

**Rating**: PG/T

**Spoilers**: Post-_Age of Steel_.

**Disclaimer**: The BBC owns them all.

**Author's Note**: If it wasn't for hippiebanana132, I would have given up on this fic. And since it's probably now the fic I'm most proud of, I'm so glad that I didn't scrap it. It's hippiebanana132 who gave me the encouragement to keep working at it, so she deserves almost all the credit for this fic. Thanks to goldydollar too for her read-through!

_What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say._

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Doctor was moving around the TARDIS console, flipping switches and pulling levers, when Rose shuffled into the room. She paused when she realized he was setting coordinates. She had been thinking of asking him about visiting somewhere warm, sunny, relaxing. When she had glanced at herself in the mirror this morning, she had taken a second look, because for a fraction of a second she hadn't recognized the girl who stood before her. With her pale skin and too-large eyes, she thought that she looked tired, a bit sad.

"Where we off to, then?" she asked, flopping down on the jump seat.

"Cardiff!" the Doctor proclaimed. "Old girl could use a top-up. Be a quick trip, then off to the next adventure! We've seen all there is to see in Cardiff, after all."

At his words, Rose felt her mood sink even more. She wasn't up for Cardiff today, but finding a way to tell the Doctor that, without revealing too much . . .

She responded to the Doctor's statement with a shrug. "I s'pose."

The last time they'd been in Cardiff, the Doctor had worn a different face and both Mickey and Jack had been with them. Now, Mickey and Jack were gone, and as for the Doctor . . . True, he was still here, but things were different now. He seemed happier, bouncier, younger, than her first Doctor, but it was just a front. She could see it in his eyes, the pain inside him that he couldn't hide, like a child with a secret. Pain that he didn't share, didn't talk to her about.

Didn't trust her with.

Rose sighed and slouched down, seeing if for once her legs would reach the console like the Doctor's did. Yet again they didn't, and she pulled her legs up under her.

It had been different before. Anyone could see the pain that her first Doctor had; he wore it like he wore his boots and leather jacket. But she had believed that as they got to know each other, spent more time together, that he might open up a bit. Only when he was ready, of course; she had teased and prodded him about a lot of things, but she knew not to go near that huge overwhelming survivor guilt of his. She had been content to wait, for him to feel safe with her.

It just seemed that he'd never feel comfortable enough to tell her anything about his past. About the planet he'd been born on, about the people he had known from his earliest days. And she felt a strange sort of resentment towards him for that. He seemed to know everything about her, yet there were still so many moments when he felt like a complete stranger to her.

A stranger with a new face and a familiar smile, one who could share things with other people. A new new Doctor who seemed all too willing to save the world without worrying about losing her. A man who was content to keep her in the dark for reasons she couldn't figure out.

She sighed again and the Doctor turned around. "You don't have to stay in here when we get there, you know. More than welcome to take in the sights, go shopping, whatever you like. Sample that bracing sea breeze."

Rose crossed her arms across her chest. "If I wanted to visit the seaside, Cardiff wouldn't be where I'd choose."

"Well, where then? Or when? Perhaps it's just modern Cardiff that doesn't float your boat," the Doctor said, grinning widely at his pun. But when she didn't reply, his grin faded and he went back to pushing buttons.

She was convinced he fiddled with the console when he was avoiding her. She sighed again, loudly.

He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyebrows raised. "Come on, then. Stop sulking like a child and say where you want to go."

"What does it matter what I pick? I don't ever get it," she said before she could stop herself. She frowned. That wasn't going to go over well.

He spun around and faced her. "What does that mean?" he asked, bewildered.

She rolled her eyes. "Let's see, Mr. I-Failed-My-TARDIS-Flying-Test. I'd have more luck asking her than you, and I can't even ask her!"

"Piloting a TARDIS isn't exactly like driving from London to Manchester, you know. You couldn't begin to understand--"

"Of course I couldn't! Because you don't tell me anything!" Rose screeched, jumping to her feet. "I'm just along for the ride, the bit of fluff."

"Bit of--bit of what?" he sputtered.

"Fluff! After all, I'm just the dumb blonde you happened to pick up. If we got split up for good, you'd go on and find some new airhead."

The Doctor strode towards her and took her shoulders in his hands. He bent down to try and look into her eyes, but she defiantly looked towards the Time Rotor so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. "Rose, listen to me very carefully. Have you visited any of the conservatories lately?"

She couldn't help it. She looked at him, knowing that her confusion was written across her face. His hands slipped from her shoulders to grasp her cheeks. "Plants, Rose, plants! There's several plants on the TARDIS that are toxic to humans. Were you exposed to any of them?" He turned her head this way and that, looking into her eyes, before he fished out the sonic screwdriver and started running it over her face.

She snorted and impatiently batted the screwdriver away. She must have been angrier than she had thought she was, because it flew across the room and hit the wall, falling to the floor with a crash. "I'm not the one with the problem."

He put his hands on his hips and loomed over her. He was trying to intimidate her with his height, she knew, but she was too mad to be scared.

"So I've got a problem, have I?" he asked, his voice soft and, oh, she knew he was really angry now. He only sounded like that when he was up against the Daleks or Cybermen or such.

"Yeah, you do," she said. In for a penny, in for a pound, Rose figured at this point. "You go swanning about the universe, expecting me to follow along in your wake. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of waiting five and a half hours for you to come swaggering back, like everything went according to plan when I know you never have a plan. And look at right now!" she said, pointing at him. "I don't fall all over myself to act like a toddler on a sugar high, and you think I've been poisoned!"

She sighed and sat down on the jump seat, some of her anger trickling away now that she had given voice to . . . well, _something_ that she was feeling. "S'pose it's my fault this has happened," she said tiredly, looking up at the Doctor who was as still as a statue. "When we first met . . . It was amazing, what you could do, and I liked the adventure. But . . . it's different now."

"It's different now," the Doctor repeated, his voice a monotone. He ran his hands through his hair before leaning back against the console. "How is it different now, may I ask?" He crossed his arms and looked like he had just asked her for the time.

How could she explain it to him? How could she tell him that they'd come too close to being separated too many times, and she was scared? Scared of never seeing the stars, seeing different times and places while holding his hand. Scared of losing him, scared of being stranded, scared about how casually he treated everything that could split them up. Scared of being left.

She shrugged. "Just is, that's all."

The Doctor nodded. "Ah, yes. Very illuminating." He stood up, and clasped his hands behind his back. "Well then, Miss Tyler. Come here."

She looked up from her inspection of the floor grating. "Huh?"

He tilted his head towards his side. "On your feet and over here."

"I'm still waiting for the magic word," she snarked.

He took two steps towards her and leaned down, his face stopping inches from hers. "Now."

The anger that had been simmering became a boil. She jumped up and followed him as he moved around the console. "I don't have to take this kind of shi-"

"Language, Rose," he interrupted her, placing a hand over her mouth. She glared at him, barely resisting the urge to bite his hand. He seemed to sense her mood, because he quickly took his hand away. "Rose, I am over nine hundred years old, and it is taking all of my wisdom and expertise in human psychology not to get into a screaming match with you. Because it wouldn't solve anything. So, how about trying to be civil?"

She rolled her eyes. She wanted to kick his ass. Of all the patronizing, presumptuous things to say . . . But she looked up at him, and she saw the way his jaw was clenched, the way his forehead was furrowed. And she saw the pain in his eyes.

She felt her shoulders slump a bit. She didn't want to be civil. She'd prefer it if he screamed and shouted at her, so she could scream back at him. And perhaps, just perhaps, he'd finally let go of some of his control and let her find out something real about him. Something more than he liked extra vinegar on his chips and could get her out of life-threatening danger with prattle and a sonic screwdriver.

But he wouldn't let go like that. Not this Doctor, at least. So it looked like she'd just have to make the best of things.

"So what do you want?" she asked, knowing she sounded a bit sullen and feeling too tired to care.

"It's not about what I want, it's about what you want. You're going to learn how to fly the TARDIS."

At his words, her mouth dropped open. He didn't just say that, did he?

"What? Me?" she asked, knowing he was about to give her that look she had described to Sarah Jane. That "it's a wonder you silly apes can walk upright" look.

Surprisingly, though, he just nodded. "Yep. Should have given you the basics a long time ago, but . . ." His voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "Just never seemed to find the time."

"We're in a time machine, Doctor," she said.

"Yeah, ironic, isn't it?" he said, looking up at her, his expression measuring. He looked like he wanted to smile but was afraid of her reaction.

She was gobsmacked. She hadn't expected him to offer her TARDIS flying lessons. Sure, the Doctor had let Jack help him before, but Jack had been a Time Agent; he knew all about paradoxes and timelines and things like that. By contrast, she could barely get through an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation without getting confused by all the science. And he was going to teach her how to work the TARDIS, properly, without having to look into the Time Vortex to do so?

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't s'pose you've been taking strolls in the gardens, Doctor?"

He laughed, and if it sounded a touch bitter to her, like he was still mad about something, she decided she was imagining it. "Nah. So, come here."

She moved to stand next to him, watching his hands move across all the strange controls and felt a pang of fear. What if she completely mucked up? What if she broke the TARDIS, really broke it? She bit her lip, and then she felt an odd sort of reassurance flow over her. Like someone was telling her to go for it.

Rose looked up at the Time Rotor and smiled. It seemed like the TARDIS was on her side.

"Now!" he said, straightening up. "I'm going to pick a time and a destination and do the heavy maths. Because as much as I respect and admire your abilities, Rose, performing spatio-temporal calculus in your head isn't one of them." She nodded, her hands itching to start pushing buttons. "The TARDIS keeps logs of points in time and space, so you can always pull up the record of a past trip to go back there," he explained. "Of course, you'll want to modify the timestamp, because we can't--"

"Cross our own timelines," Rose said, interrupting him. And oh, he was grinning at her, like he was just so incredibly proud of her, and how could she ever think that was patronizing?

"Exactly," the Doctor said. "It's fairly easy to modify the time, but that'll be another lesson. Plus, piloting this way is as easy as pie. Where do such phrases come from, really? Because any good baker could tell you that the perfect piecrust is quite difficult to achieve--"

He paused, distracted from his ramble by something. Perhaps he'd noticed that she was looking at him like he was just slightly dotty, but Rose couldn't be sure what shifted his thoughts in a new direction as he spoke again. "Is that okay? As a way to get started, I mean."

She opened her mouth, but he rushed on. "Because I never want you to feel like you're useless. You're of so much use, Rose, to the whole universe, and there shouldn't be anything that makes you feel like you're not just so brilliant and amazing and special to--"

The Doctor stopped suddenly, as if he realized he was talking too much. He turned away, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Rose was too busy being gobsmacked, yet again, to respond with anything more than grabbing the hand that wasn't fidgeting nervously.

He didn't say anything, just gave her hand a small squeeze before he moved over to the keyboard and monitor. She might have been imagining it, but it seemed like he had an extra bounce in his step.

He hit a few keys, and said, "Ah-ha! This will work nicely." He came over to her, pulling the monitor along. "Okay, we've got a time and a destination. First step, you'll want to press that red button, there," he said, gesturing towards a button in front of her. "That correlates our current position in time and space with our target. Very important step--I forget it half the time, therefore why we keep ending up in strange places and times," he said with a big grin that she couldn't help returning. "Next is the temporal matrices stabilizer," he said, giving the perambulator wheel a quick spin. "Two spins will get everything ready."

"Do you spin up or down?" she asked, almost wishing she was taking notes.

The Doctor tilted his head and closed his eyes, and said, "Down-no, up! No, down. Definitely down." He grinned at her, and it seemed like he had never been so giddy, so happy, in all the time she had known him.

* * *

With a gentle, almost unnoticeable thud, the TARDIS landed. Unable to prevent herself from laughing in delight, Rose rang the small bell on the console and then threw her arms around the Doctor. He laughed with her.

"I do believe the TARDIS likes you," he said as he pulled away. "Gave you a nice smooth ride for your first time."

"Oh, that was amazing! I mean, I know I still have you as my training wheels and everything, but it was like the first time I climbed on a bike, you know? That feeling. . ." Rose said, trailing off as she imagined the possibilities. She couldn't fool herself into thinking she'd be able to work the TARDIS for real, without the Doctor and the TARDIS' help, for many many years. But knowing that she could do some of the basics, that the TARDIS was willing to let her fly her, and that the Doctor had taught her this . . . well, it made her feel like she could do anything.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps that was why the Doctor had that unshakable confidence, because he knew he could take this beautiful blue box and go to any place, any time, that he wanted. And sure, there were bumps and crashes, but didn't that make it all the more exciting?

The feel of the Doctor grabbing her hand pulled her out of her thoughts. "Come on, let's see how well you've done!" he said, grinning down at her. Then, with a not-so-gentle tug, he pulled her down the ramp and out the doors.

She couldn't help laughing as she followed him, a laugh that died away as she took in the vista in front of her. They were perched on a not-very-high cliff, a wall of trees at their backs. Several dozen feet below them, a narrow ribbon of pale yellow sand met green-gray water. The waves softly crashed upon the shore, the sun shone brightly, and the sky was a perfect blue. She sighed happily.

"Yeah, thought you'd like this," the Doctor said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the breeze and the waves. "So, Rose, where and when are we?"

At her surprised look, he shrugged. "Take a guess. Trust your instincts."

Rose turned to look back at the view, then closed her eyes. "Hmm . . . air smells like salt and pine. It smells really clean, too. The waves sound like water hitting sand, not liquid mercury hitting glass." She opened her eyes and took a long look around. "The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, the grass is green. We're on Earth, aren't we?"

The Doctor nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yep! Right now, this island is called Abegweit." The Doctor's quiet voice managed to make the name sound like a song. "In a few years, French ships will come sailing across the sea, and this island, along with most of eastern Canada and the northeastern United States, will be called Acadia."

"Acadia," Rose said. "It's a pretty name."

The Doctor nodded. "It is, isn't it? So much nicer than the prosaic Prince Edward Island."

"So that's where we are? Prince Edward Island? Huh," Rose said. "Didn't think we'd ever go anywhere so normal. I mean, it's somewhere you visit on holiday, somewhere people actually want to go visit."

"I'll have you know that many of the places we've seen are prime tourist destinations. Just . . . maybe not at the times we visit them," the Doctor said, tugging on his ear.

Rose couldn't help a small giggle. "So when are we?"

"You were on the right track when you said the air was clean. It's around 1600, long before trains and cars and all those pollutants."

"And we're the only ones to see it like this," Rose said dreamily.

"Well, other than the Mi'kmaq," the Doctor said. At Rose's confused look, he said, "The native population."

"Ahhh," Rose said with a nod, returning her eyes to the view. "I watched that Anne of Green Gables movie when I was little--I always thought Prince Edward Island looked so pretty it couldn't be real."

"It's a movie that really captures the feel of the book. You should read it."

Rose turned to look at him. "You've read Anne of Green Gables?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Doctor's face was amused, without a trace of embarrassment. "There's not much I haven't read, Rose. Helps a bit that I can read pretty quickly."

"Of course," Rose said, turning away from the sea and looking around them. "So, wanna go exploring with me?"

She stretched her hand out to him, wiggling her fingers like he so often did. He laughed and took her hand, and they started walking, moving along the cliff and gradually descending towards the beach.

She snuck a glance at him once or twice as they walked. She was still surprised with how he had reacted to her screaming at him. She'd expected him to snipe back at her, make a 'stupid ape' comment or something. But . . . funny, she realized. Ever since he'd regenerated, he hadn't made any of those kinds of comments. In fact, he seemed downright admiring of humans. Huh. Couldn't see her old Doctor doing that, she thought to herself as they clambered down to the beach.

The Doctor dropped her hand and immediately shucked off his plimsolls and socks. "Come on, Rose--shoes off."

He put his feet on the sand, then hopped from foot to foot. When she looked at him askance, he merely said, "Sand's hot."

"So why should I take my shoes off, then? Other than 'cause you don't want to be the only one hopping about?"

"First off, Rose, you'll get sand in your shoes, which, songs aside, is uncomfortable in that popcorn-kernel-in-your-back-molars kind of way. Then, you'll get sand inside the TARDIS, where it'll fall down in between the openings in the gratings and gum up the works, which means we'll be stuck until I can strip the gears and re-oil them, and frankly, I don't want to take the risk of a speedy getaway being unavailable, given our track record. Do you?" He grinned at her, finally able to stop hopping and stand still on the sand. "Plus, this isn't normal sand, but if you don't walk in bare feet, you won't get to see what's special about it."

Rose shook her head and leaned down to unlace her boots. Well, if he had been upset or angry with her earlier, which she had suspected for a moment before he told her he was teaching her to fly the TARDIS, it had definitely passed.

The Doctor's hands hovered around her elbows, balancing her when she needed him. She straightened up, tucked her socks inside her shoes, and together they walked across the sand hand-in-hand.

"The sand here has some unique qualities. It's highly spherical in shape, measuring between point-one and point-five millimeters in diameter. It has a certain concentration of silica, and there's a certain range of humidity the air has to possess. And when you have all of those things . . ." The Doctor dropped her hand and slid along the crest of the dune. She listened in amazement as a soft squeaking noise filled the air. It reminded her a bit of bubble wrap being popped, but lower and softer.

"It's called singing sand!" the Doctor called out with a huge grin on his face. He kept sliding his feet through the sand, and she couldn't help laughing. She started sliding, too, hearing that strange sqeaky popping sound.

They slid along the dunes, giggling and laughing at the sounds they produced. They finally came to rest against the upslope of a dune, laying next to each other as they looked out at the waves.

"There's examples of singing sand, also called booming or squeaking sand, all over Earth. But most of it's in big hot deserts, and I thought this was a bit nicer setting," the Doctor said, stretching out and looking like he was but a moment away from rolling off his coat and making a sand angel. "It's amazing, I tell you, the things that happen on Earth. Auroral chorus, the Taos Hum--the Frey effect! Microwave frequencies making you hear things that are all in your head--literally!" The Doctor grinned. "This planet is just brilliant. I could never stop coming back, even when everyone back home made fun of--"

Rose looked over at him as he stopped talking suddenly, knowing that he hadn't meant to say so much. She rolled over onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. "What were they like?"

"What was who like?" the Doctor said, tipping his head back and scanning the sky rather than look at her. "Didn't you ask me once why the skies on so many planets are red or orange, rather than blue like on Earth? It's really fascinating, the variation in color across the universe--"

"Doctor," she interrupted. He paused, and it was like his body released a long-held breath. He turned and looked at her for a long moment, and she couldn't help but feel like he was measuring her, looking into her soul for something he couldn't name.

His eyes dropped from hers and he sat up. Rose blinked, and felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Obviously she had been found wanting, despite his earlier words. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, and sat up beside him. As soon as she was upright, he sprang to his feet and began walking along the line of dunes.

She stared after him, at the tight line of his shoulders and the way his hands were shoved into his trouser pockets. And it hurt to watch him walk away.

Rose sighed and looked back out at the water. So this was how it was, it seemed. She had thought that her old Doctor was just about ready to start talking, when the Game Station and the Daleks and the Bad Wolf happened. After that, she had expected to start back at square one, but the new Doctor had been so happy and bubbly that she thought it would be happening any day now. He'd be babbling about the suns in the Fragella system and the really excellent chips you could get in 1847 Birmingham, and then he'd just start talking about his people and his planet and what had happened to them, and then things would be better for him.

She didn't know much about grieving, but she remembered when her grandpa Prentice had passed away, and how her mum had reacted. She had denied it, cried, gotten angry, been clingy, the works. But once she began talking, Jackie finally started getting better, and she stopped crying, and she even laughed when she told Rose about the mad things he used to do, and how much she had loved him.

That was just one little person, mourning another little person. How would someone like the Doctor mourn his whole race, his home? She couldn't imagine it, but every instinct she had said he needed to talk about it.

Rose stood up, dusting the sand off her dark jeans and shaking her hair. She scooped up the Doctor's coat from the ground and gave it a good shake too, hoping most of the sand had fallen off. He was bound to complain about the itchy grains for the next few days, but he had been the one to spread his coat on the ground.

She started following the Doctor's footsteps which seemed to be heading back towards the TARDIS. As she walked, she looked around her, occasionally sliding her feet to make the sand sing again. It was a beautiful spot, one of the many he had taken her to. And he'd take her to more, because she knew she wouldn't leave him. Even when he shouted or clammed up, talked a million miles a minute or acted like the worst kind of git, she wanted to stay with him. If all she could be was his friend, she'd be the best friend he'd ever had.

But she knew her heart would always want more.

* * *

Within a few moments, she had found her shoes, but the Doctor's were gone. She shrugged her shoulders and slipped her boots back on before heading back up the hills towards the TARDIS. She was soon sweating, wondering why the trip home was always harder than the trip out. By the time she caught her first glance of the blue police box, she was looking forward to a cool drink and a new T-shirt. But thoughts of her comfort left her as she came through the last stand of trees.

The Doctor was sitting at the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the side. Every few moments, he picked up a stone and threw it with all his might. Even from here, she could hear a soft plop or crash as the stone met either the water or the side of the cliff.

She could see that tightness in his shoulders still. It seemed like he was angry but couldn't figure out what to do with his anger. As he picked up one stone, she heard him say something; she drew a bit closer, moving slowly, her footsteps muffled by the pine needles underfoot. But she stopped in mid-step when she realized what she was hearing.

The Doctor was swearing.

Well, she guessed he was swearing. All she heard was a string of foreign phrases, what sounded like Chinese and Russian and Spanish, mixed with strange sounds that made her think of asterisks and exclamation points, just like the way they represented swearing in the papers.

For a moment, she didn't understand why she was hearing such gibberish. And then it clicked. The TARDIS must be translating his actual speech into that strange soup of words and sounds. She nearly giggled. So the TARDIS was a bit prim and proper, huh? She shook her head before wondering what she should do now. Turn around and come back making a lot of noise? Go sit next to him? Go into the TARDIS?

As she stood dithering, she realized a silence had fallen over the clearing. The Doctor had stopped swearing and stopped throwing stones, and now sat slumped back on his elbows. He rolled his head back and looked at her.

"It's not nice to lurk," he said mildly.

She shrugged. "It's not nice to throw stones around like that," she said, coming over and dropping down to sit next to him, placing his coat to the side. He straightened up and scooted away from her a bit, and she tried not to feel hurt. She didn't succeed, but she tried not to think about that as a silence fell over them.

The sun had been dropping in the sky, and now it was starting to set behind them. As they sat gazing out at the water, the sun's light stretched across the sky. The ocean turned a golden-orange, and a light mist picked up the reds and oranges of the sunset and made the whole sight otherworldly. Rose breathed deeply, her hands resting in her lap. There was a kind of peace here, something that made her realize how small she was. But it also made her remember how even one human could completely change the universe.

The Doctor's voice broke the silence. "How'd you know I'm not supposed to throw stones?" he asked, acting as if only a moment had passed since she had spoken. "Perhaps those stones are the first step towards a new geological feature that will gradually form over the next million years? Or maybe I'm supposed to give one of the Native Americans here an equivalent of Newton's apple?"

"Or you could just be stumbling about for some important-sounding reason for why you decided to chuck a bunch of pebbles off a cliff," Rose said, smiling gently at him. There was so much about him that just made her smile, even when she was worried or scared or mad. It was something new, this overwhelming sense of delight she felt when they were together.

He shook his head. "Rose Tyler," he said tenderly. "It's not right." He ran his hands through his hair, and looked at her for a split second before turning to look out at the sea.

"What's not right?" she asked softly, wondering what he meant.

Instead of responding to her question, he drew in a breath and said, "Sunsets make me miss home."

His words made her look up in surprise. He didn't seem to notice her as he continued to speak. "It was orange and red like this all the time. It made you feel so calm, which is funny, since for humans those colors rev you up, make you hungry, make you fiery. Seeing red, indeed. But for the Time Lords . . . oh, to look out your window and see something like that, it just made you feel so certain about yourself, so safe."

He paused, and turned to look at her. The sun was in her eyes, and his face was in shadow and unreadable. His body language was a bit stiff, like he was giving in to something that he didn't want to feel or express. But his hand was so gentle when he reached out and cupped her cheek.

"I like looking at you in the sunset," he said. His voice was barely audible, but each word was like a siren inside Rose's head.

She tried to think what to do, what to say, until he dropped his hand and looked away from her. The moment was gone, and Rose felt completely adrift. She stared at her hands, still folded in her lap. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, running his hands back and forth through his hair. He must really look like a mad scientist now, her brain provided. She looked up and couldn't help bursting into giggles at the realization that he actually did.

He took his hands out of his hair, and pointed a finger at her. "You, Rose Tyler!" He shook his head, making his hair bob around his face and causing her giggles to intensify. "You're driving me insane. You truly are. It's like a strange sickness. You were angry at me earlier--really angry, I mean, right?" He paused, his hands opening and closing like he was either going to strangle her or jam them back into the rat's nest that was masquerading as his hair.

Rose managed to push down the last of her laughter and took a few deep breaths before replying. "I would have thought the screaming at you like a fishwife would've tipped you off, but yeah, I was pretty mad with you."

"Exactly!" the Doctor said, his hands gesticulating wildly. "You were angry, but because I wouldn't fight with you, you had to find a way to channel the anger into something else. And I knew you'd do that, because I know everything about humans and their emotional states and such. And I knew that you weren't really upset about not being able to fly the TARDIS--well, maybe a little, but it wasn't the big issue. No, you felt like you didn't have control, and I realized that, and now you've got control, you can save yourself if something ever happens to me."

She reached over and grabbed one of his hands. "Don't say that."

He shook his head and pulled away from her, waving both of his hands about again. "Statistically it's bound to happen. I'll do something daft and you'll have to rescue me, and it's quite likely I might just regenerate. But at least now you know what to do, can get home all right. And that's brilliant, really," he said, his voice so bleak that his words seemed completely mismatched to his emotions. "But, but . . . you're feeling all better, and I feel . . ."

His words trailed off, and the Doctor slumped down, staring glumly at his shoes. He seemed utterly dejected and completely confused. But then, he looked at her, staring at her face. Rose stared back, too confused to do anything else. After a few moments, he dropped his gaze and started rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

She watched him, wondering why he seemed so tied up in knots. His confusion was so extreme, so odd to see, that she was even more befuddled by him than normal. What was going through that brain of his? Then she realized what the problem was.

It wasn't his brain. It was his hearts. Hadn't he just said he was feeling something? She frowned. Was he so out-of-touch with his emotions that he couldn't even express himself? Was that normal for him? Should she push again and risk getting rejected again? Or should she just give him some time to himself?

Rose looked at him, at how his eyes seemed to dart around, how his hands were rubbing at his neck or tugging at an ear or fiddling with his suit buttons. It seemed that this was something he had to figure out on his own, so even though she hated to see him like this, she pulled her legs up and got up, heading towards the TARDIS. She'd take a shower and drink some tea. She'd bring him out a cup and they could sit outside, looking at the stars and acting like today's mutual strange behavior hadn't happened at all.

She started when she heard his voice. "Where are you going?"

She bit her lip and wondered if it was too cliched that she could feel tears in her eyes. Because his voice was utterly vulnerable. He sounded like the little boy from the flat downstairs, the one she'd watched when she was younger. When he'd woken up from a bad dream and came toddling out of his room, asking to "sleep with Wose," he'd sounded just like the Doctor did now.

She turned around, hoping she didn't look like she was about to collapse into tears. That would surely not be a good thing. "I was going to go make some tea."

His glance darted from the TARDIS, back to her, then towards the horizon. "But, but . . . the sunset's not finished. You can't go inside before it's done. After all, this is the only time the sunset's gonna look like this, exactly like this."

Her heart leapt up, and she wasn't quite sure why, but he wanted her to stay, so she would stay. "Well, in that case . . ." she said, keeping her voice light as she sat back down next to him.

They didn't speak for a few long moments, and then the Doctor broke the silence, his voice casual. "You've got a bit of a problem, too, you know. And I've tried to not let it bother me, but after this morning . . ." His voice trailed off, and Rose wondered if it was possible to feel your heart skipping a beat. What was he going to say?

The Doctor took an agonizingly long time to resume speaking. "You can make me angry enough to scream, and it's about time you got to hear about it."

"Yeah?" Rose asked, feeling a flash of her earlier anger but managing to control it and keep her voice steady. She'd never met anyone who could make her feel so much, so quickly. She could go from fear to delight in a moment, or from happiness to anger just as fast. "I didn't realize we were keeping score. But I guess since I got to dump on you this morning, now it's your turn?"

She put her hands behind her and leaned back, almost mirroring his earlier pose. "So I s'pose you're going to explain how I'm all wrong, and say you regret ever asking me along with you."

"That's just it," the Doctor said, his voice curious, like he was examining an experiment that had produced results he didn't understand. "You're all wrong, but you're all right."

He picked up a few pebbles and bounced them between his hands as he spoke. "You're always wandering off. You don't think, you feel, and you're always getting into trouble because of that. You're like the Pied Piper of Hamelin with the way you bring people along, all those pretty boys who don't care you're leading them into danger, because they're just hoping to get one of your smiles. And even worse, half the time I think you don't really listen to me! You let me run off at the mouth, and you could care less that I could be telling you something vitally important, just because you're thinking, 'Oh, listen to him run on!'"

His voice had risen as he spoke, but he closed his mouth abruptly and then tossed the pebbles down the cliff. "But that's the thing. You wander off, and I have to find you. You get into trouble, and I have to save you. You pick up people, and I have to make sure you don't get hurt. You don't notice everything I say, so I try everything I can to make you notice what I do."

He shook his head. "No Time Lord should feel like that. A true Time Lord should never rely on anyone for comfort, support, friendship. After all, it wouldn't be an equal partnership, so what could you, as the superior species, get from the relationship? Other than a nasty god complex, which most Time Lords were already far too prone to, if you ask me."

"Yeah?" she said, sensing that he was waiting for some kind of response from her and realizing she had been silent for a long time. The sun had dropped down farther, so while there was less light, she could see his face without squinting at the light hitting her eyes.

"Yeah. So it's really, really wrong that when you were screaming at me earlier, all I could think of was offering you anything you wanted, so you wouldn't ask me to take you home," he said, his eyes wide and soft. He looked at her for a moment that seemed like a lifetime and a second before tearing his gaze away and looking at the darkening horizon.

She opened then closed her mouth. She had wanted him to lose control? If only she had known that his loss of control would completely unbalance and unnerve her. She felt like her synapses and cells were overloaded with information. For her heart was telling her one thing, and her head was holding fast against that rush . . . or at least her mind was i trying /i to hold back the swell of emotion.

He was staring ahead as he spoke. "I've traveled with a lot of people over the years. Not all of them were as outstanding as Sarah Jane. Most people just fall into traveling with me. Most of them were human, a few weren't. They were all smart in their own ways. Some were domestic, most of them liked the TARDIS, there were a few who didn't like my taste in clothes. There was even one or two that I wanted to chuck out on the nearest asteroid. Which I really wouldn't have done-at least not at the nearest asteroid. I would have found them a nice asteroid, one with shuttle service to a nearby planet so they could get home. Still, they were all important to me. But no one will ever be as important as you."

She could feel the last warmth of the day as the sun dipped down behind the island, the sky now a deep dark purple above them, fading to a pale pinkish-lavender at the horizon line. It had been a beautiful sunset, and Rose was glad she had seen it. And why on Earth was she thinking such utter bollocks, when she was pretty sure the Doctor had come as close as he'd ever come to all but saying he loved her?

She reached over and took his hand. Amazing that they had spent all this time talking without their hands being clasped together; she was so used to holding his hand that it was normal to her. Normal, but never ordinary.

"You know it's like that for me, too?" she asked him, groping for words. "I mean, I won't exactly live as long as you, but there'll never be anyone who means as much as you do." She paused, words dancing on the tip of her tongue, and she wondered if she should say them. And she found herself wondering, as she often did when faced with a decision, what would he do?

And with that, she couldn't help a small grin from crossing her lips for a moment. She knew what the old him might do, and she kinda thought she knew what this new new Doctor might do, but it didn't matter what he would have done, because she was going to tell him. When she opened her mouth, she knew her voice was as solemn and serious as her words.

"And I'm never gonna ask you to take me home." He looked up at her, surprised, and even with the lack of light in the sky she could see how his eyes brightened. "Well, not for good, that is," she said.

A small smile played about his mouth. "And here I was thinking I'd never have to worry about getting slapped by your mother again," he said lazily, letting his free hand fall on top of their joined hands.

"Oi," she said gently, with no force behind the word. "You'll have to worry about me giving you a slap if you keep that up."

"Ooo, I'm scared," he said, shivering but grinning at her.

And for a long moment, Rose and the Doctor sat on a cliff on a small island, as the stars came out above them and they only had eyes for each other. Then, with a small sigh, the Doctor pulled himself to his feet, somehow managing to keep hold of her hand and pulling her up at the same time.

"That's actually a bit impressive," she said, and he grinned at her.

"Superior balance, of course. So, Miss Tyler," he said, as the two of them walked towards the TARDIS, "where to next?"

She smiled at him and swung their hands back and forth. "Anywhere but Cardiff."

End


End file.
